


Bedroom Hymns

by Khione_North



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aether Plugs, Begging, Blow Jobs, Breeding, Come Eating, Come Inflation, Come Swallowing, Creampie, Explicit Consent, F/M, Fingerfucking, Impregnation Kink, Light Dom/sub, Mating Bites, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Pining, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, Stomach Bulge, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, safe word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:20:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26978719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khione_North/pseuds/Khione_North
Summary: “I will warn you, my dear Warrior, if I grant you this boon, I may find that I am unable to restrain myself from going further than simply a kiss.”The beaming grin she gave him in response was a thing of feminine, wicked beauty.  “I’m counting on it.  Now, stop stalling.”Who was he to disobey her?
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Warrior of Light, G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 10
Kudos: 101





	Bedroom Hymns

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this and want to meet some of the awesome people who helped inspire it (plus many more awesome people!), come join us at [Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club!](https://discord.gg/enabling-debauched-xivfic)

The Crystal Exarch full-out sprinted to The Pendants in an anxious bustle of robes and worst-case scenarios upon hearing that the Warrior of Darkness was refusing to answer his usual sunrise summons. It was most unlike her to remain in her rooms past the first half-bell following the gentle arrival of the sun’s dawning rays, and with the Light from three Wardens now held in her soul, he couldn’t help but worry to the point of panic.

Needless to say, he was extremely confused when her voice sounded clear and calm through the door.

“Who is it~?” she hummed, and his ears flicked beneath his hood at the sounds of rustling and running water.

“I’ve come to check on you, my friend,” he called, rubbing his arms idly as he waited for her response. He knew not what to expect, only that she had seemed perfectly fine the night before. In fact, she’d seemed content and peaceful, even.

And then, she opened the door.

The Warrior of Light and Darkness, Saviour of Eorzea, Champion of Hydaelyn, Liberator of Doma and Ala Mhigo, Sorceress of Ishgard…was wearing a sinfully short, overly-fluffy, candy floss blue bathrobe…and nothing else.

The Exarch was **very** glad that his face was in shadow, else Khione would have seen the unbridled **hunger** that gleamed in his eyes.

Twelve bless her, Khione beamed at the Exarch and stood aside to allow him entry. Twelve damn him, the Exarch entered.

He stood awkwardly by the door, trying not to look too long at the various bits of clothing scattered across the floor; he absolutely didn’t stare at the pair of deliciously lacy smalls discarded by the door to the bathing room.

“You know you’re allowed to sit down and relax,” Khione chided with a teasing smirk. 

Somehow, he summoned the strength to continue portraying the Crystal Exarch’s eternal state of cool composure, frowning at the sorceress. “I would hate to intrude, my friend. You appear otherwise occupy—”

“Nonsense. Sit, sit. We can talk while I bathe.”

“But—”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re embarrassed at the thought. A body is a body, and a bath is a bath. When you’ve travelled and camped out as much as I have, you stop caring about such things as modesty between close friends — I am correct in assuming that we fall under such a category, considering the fact that I fall asleep in your arms at least four nights out of seven, yes?”

“Well, yes—”

“Then sit.”

The Exarch obeyed the command without further argument, resting his staff on the side of the table before sitting on one of the cushioned benches. Gods above, the way she swayed her hips as she moved through the suite and into the bathing room was almost more than the Exarch could bear, and he prayed that she wouldn’t look too long at the obvious tenting of his robes which he attempted to cover with the too-casual drape of his crystalline arm across his lap.

The cruel, wicked witch disrobed in full view of where he sat, and he couldn’t be 100% sure that he wasn’t somehow dreaming all of this.

His breath grew ragged, and he was impossibly grateful when Khione slipped into the obscuring water of the tub.

“So, what brings you to my humble abode this morning, Exarch?” she crooned, and he was sure that she was intentionally making a show of lifting one beautiful, lean, pale leg to lather it with soap as slowly and sensually as possible.

“I-I….” He cleared his throat and took a deep breath through his nose, desperately trying to grasp at his usual detachment. “You told the guard that you would not be coming to speak with me in the Tower this morning. I simply wished to make sure you were quite well.”

Her laugh was a harpy’s beautiful cackle, a siren’s shriek, and he would say or do anything to hear it again and again.

“Well, worry not, dear Exarch, for I am perfectly hale and as whole as I can be with the constant pressure of corrupting Light pressing at the scars in my soul.”

“Yes, I can see that, now,” he murmured, even as he relaxed just that tiny bit more, shifting to try to take the edge off of his **very** painful hardness.

“Then why are you actually here?” she purred as she lathered shampoo through her raven’s-wing blue curls, the white streaks glittering like veins of opal. The Exarch found himself struck dumb, mesmerised, for a moment.

**‘Because the thought of you so much as stubbing your little toe leaves me feeling panicked and protective,’** G’raha Tia wanted to scream, wanted to slip into the bath with her and whisper between kisses against her Light-mottled skin.

Instead, the Crystal Exarch smiled, polite, if a little strained.

“As you so accurately said,” he conceded, staring out the window while she rinsed the soap from her hair, “we are close friends, and I suppose I was happy to take any excuse to be in your company. Though I must ask, why did you refuse my summons to breakfast? Was it not just yesterday that you proudly proclaimed that you quite enjoyed my cooking?”

They both turned to smirk at each other at the same time, and for once, it was Khione who blinked first, a tempting blush creeping up her shoulders and cheeks as she rose from the water, quickly wrapping herself in a large, fluffy towel.

“Touché, my lord Exarch. Touché.”

He barely heard her conceit over the rushing of his blood from his head down to his…other head. His brain all but filled with fleece when she began to move back into the main suite, her damned hips swaying again.

“You are awfully terrible at reading hints and body language, aren’t you, Exarch?” The taunt snapped him from his thoughts, and it suddenly dawned on him that Khione, the little minx, had almost certainly planned this all out. 

He was up, out of his chair, and behind her by the time she stopped in front of the floor-length mirror by her dresser, his hands moving to those delicate, inviting hips right as she dropped the towel. Needless to say, his control was **gone**.

“I **hoped** , but it would have been wrong of me to **presume**. However, you still haven’t answered my question, my **friend** ,” the words were a low murmuring growl that dripped from his lips pressed against her ear, while the warmth of her body seeped through his robes as he let her **feel** her effect on him, insistent against her backside.

“Haven’t I?”

Oh, she was **brilliant** , he would give her that. All those evenings spent curled up on the window seat together, content in the closeness of an amiable embrace and comfortable silence, she had been **learning** him, **studying** him, slipping into the cracks in the armour of his soul, figuring out exactly where to strike for maximum effect. 

“It would appear that I’ve played right into your game, Little Sorceress. I suppose I must admit defeat. What, pray tell, would you ask as your prize?”

The look in her eyes when she turned to face him was nothing short of predatory, brazen, self-assured; he tightened his grip on her hips, digging the tips of his fingers into the scarred and supple skin he found there.

“A kiss.”

Of course, she asked for one of the few things he knew he **shouldn’t** give her.

“That’s all? I would’ve expected the Warrior of Darkness to ask for the keys to my kingdom.” He hoped she would fall for his deflection, but he knew her well enough to know that it was a fool’s hope.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no if you asked me to be your ‘Lady Exarch,’” she chuckled, tilting her head at a coy angle, looking up at him through long, lowered lashes. “But short of that, I’d quite like for you to kiss me.”

G’raha cursed himself for his very distinct inability to say ‘no’ to this tiny, face-meltingly powerful woman; he also cursed himself for how quickly he’d allowed her to decimate his self-control and common sense.

“I will warn you, my dear Warrior, if I grant you this boon, I may find that I am unable to restrain myself from going further than simply a kiss.”

The beaming grin she gave him in response was a thing of feminine, wicked beauty. “I’m counting on it. Now, stop stalling.”

Who was he to disobey her?

The kiss they had shared all those years ago on the shores of Silvertear had been sweetness and yearning and curiosity and fear of losing one another. This kiss was G’raha’s undoing, pure longing and starvation, two apex predators clashing for dominion and domination, and at this point, he found that he no longer cared if the meeting of their lips, their bodies led to her revelation because this was the answer to every one of his prayers made on lonely nights in a prison made of crystal. He did, however, need to set some rules for the sake of some degree of security, to lay out some form of boundary line that they could not cross — that **he** could not cross.

“I have but one condition before I ravish you so thoroughly that you forget your own name,” he whispered against lips that tasted of sweetened coffee and nutmeg, his hands roaming the delicate ladder of her ribcage, thumbs teasing at the lower curve of her breasts.

“Name it, and consider it done,” she hummed, though he could see in her eyes and the way her hands strayed no further than the crystal climbing up both sides of his neck, that she already knew what he was asking of her.

“I must ask that you allow me to keep my clothing on, I’m afraid. While I am more than happy to share this…whatever this is between us…there are some things that I would rather keep to myself.”

The wintry vixen chuckled, pulling him down for another kiss that left him feeling frostbitten and **alive**. “It’s a deal, though really, I assumed you had your cowl spelled in place to ward against any unfortunate accidents or clawing lovers. Now, what was this about ravishing me?”

The Crystal Exarch pounced without confirming that she was, in fact, correct; scooping the Warrior into his arms to carry her over to the bed for the sole purpose of splaying her out like a feast beneath him. 

Oh, he was going to enjoy making Khione come undone.

Her body was like a novel of all the battles and hardships she’d faced — the scar shooting from her left shoulder, down across her body to her right hip from her fight with Zenos; the long, pale line across her lower abdomen where a dragon had tried to gut her; claw marks across her thigh from a fight with a particularly nasty coeurl that she’d once told him about. So many stories marking her beautiful star-pale skin. 

He hesitated, frowning, his mind racing with variations on all the possibilities of how this might end. Only a rare few came out in his long-term favour.

“What is it that you want from me, Warrior of Darkness?” the Exarch mused, peering down at his prey beneath the shadows of his cowl. “You tell me your terms and wishes, and I shall tell you mine so that we may find a compromise that suits both of us.”

The way Khione frowned for a moment, then shifted into a sober, thoughtful silence nearly broke his mortal heart, because it was the expression of a woman who had never before been given such autonomy and freedom of choice, whether on the battlefield or in the bedroom.

“I want you to make me forget — who I am, what I am, what I’ve lost. I want you to make me yours, even if it is just for today. You may do whatever it is that you wish with me — within reason, of course — but I ask that you treat me as someone beloved, with respect and dignity and kindness. Those are my terms.”

G’raha nodded, trying to keep his mouth schooled into a predatory smirk so that the Warrior beneath him wouldn’t see the storm of emotions her words had created within him.

“Consider it done. As for my own terms, I ask that you allow me to blindfold you. I cannot very well treat you fully as my beloved if there is a constant barrier of clothing between us, but I am very adamant about maintaining my anonymity. I also ask that you allow me to bind your hands, for the same reason. Beyond that, if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, all you have to do is say ‘Rolanberry’ and I will stop immediately.”

“That’s all?” Her own smirk had returned, hungry and wicked and teasing, and he couldn’t help but steal a kiss from those taunting lips.

“I ask that you let me mark you.”

“It’s a deal.”

It took all of his not-inconsiderable willpower to keep his hands from shaking as he grabbed a thick blue scarf from where it had been discarded atop her rucksack, and tied it over her eyes with expert care. He bound her wrists with glowing ropes of aether, unbreakable yet gentle, and he chuckled when she predictably tried to manoeuvre her way out of them to no avail.

In all of his years of life, G’raha had never undressed as quickly as he did then, with the woman of his dreams laid out before him, vulnerable and dripping with arousal for **him**. It nearly pained him physically to take things slowly, to savour every moment.

He started with her lips, slightly parted and his for the taking. His cock throbbed with heavy insistence at the way she moaned when his tongue slipped into her mouth.

G’raha started with a gentle mark at Khione’s collarbone, laving his tongue over her sweet, humid skin in slow circles. He moved to the peaked, darkened nipple of her left breast, alternating between nibbling and sucking at it while his crystalline hand mimicked the motions as best it could on her right breast. When she whimpered and canted her hips up towards his with impatience, he punished her by sinking his fangs deep into the skin of her breast.

“Behave,” he snarled, voice laden with masculine possessiveness and dominance that had the Fury’s Handmaiden stilling like a statue. “Good girl.”

He continued his journey downwards, kissing every ilm of her scars with terrifying tenderness, only to mark the unmarred skin between those pale streaks of levin with more of those violent bites.

Khione was positively dripping by the time G’raha’s tongue licked a brazen stripe up the heat of her centre. He nuzzled the patch of wiry dark curls that guarded her clit, breathing in the heady, musky scent of **her** , before plunging his tongue into the inviting darkness, the taste of her fizzing on his tongue like sparks of static that leave him slightly dizzy.

He hooked her legs over his shoulders, drawing blood with the bites he left on the skin of each milky thigh before moving to focus on suckling at her clit, delighting in the way she bucked her hips and writhed at such a simple action. The moan that escaped her when he filled her with two fingers, crooked to brush against her g-spot, was nothing short of lewdly pathetic.

“I do wonder what the citizens of both worlds would say if they could see how you allow a veritable stranger debauch you like this,” he mused, setting a cruel, languid tempo with his fingers. He punctuated his words with a sharp suck on her pearl. “Do you think you deserve to come right now, Warrior of Darkness?”

Khione bucked her hips in answer, whimpering and pleading. “Yes, please, gods yes.”

“Since you asked nicely….” The rush he got from taunting her, from lording his control over her, had his cock weeping with pre-cum, twitching and aching as it stood tall and proud, curving slightly towards his stomach. He added a third finger, and began pumping her faster, sucking at her clit harder, both of them frantic until Khione arched off the bed with a sharp cry, spilling herself into G’raha’s eager mouth. She tasted of old wishes fulfilled and new wishes created, and he knew that he would do this every day if she asked him to.

When at last he had finished licking up every drop of her orgasm, G’raha slowly climbed over Khione, gently kissing the bruised and bleeding marks he’d bitten.

“Tell me what you want, Little Warrior,” he purred, slanting his mouth over hers in a tender kiss that she eagerly returned.

“Your cock. Fill me, make me yours.”

“Only if you ask me nicely.”

Khione hissed at the command in his voice, baring her teeth. Needy, wicked little thing.

“I’m waiting.”

He grinned at the way she pouted, her mouth wobbling into a close approximation of humility and deference. “P-please fill me and make me yours, Crystal Exarch.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

G’raha didn’t give her a chance to make any sort of clever quip before he impaled her on his cock, bottoming out with a feral snarl. This, he thought, must be what the beast tribes felt like when they offered their most fervent wishes to the gods of their dreams and summoned their primals. He was more than happy to worship in this temple for the rest of his doomed existence.

The wet sounds and squelches of skin hitting skin, the incoherent grunts and gasps and moans they shared, their titles babbling from each other’s mouths like an ancient brook; together, they created a hymnal to their joining, punctuated their passion with words of praise and pleading and prayer. 

Khione came first, her body already overstimulated and sensitive. Tears leaked through the fabric of the scarf covering her eyes, and she twitched with every erratic thrust of G’raha’s hips into her.

G’raha claimed her lips as he emptied himself into her, filling her just as she had asked.

“More,” Khione finally rasped when coherent thought had returned to her. G’raha felt his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a wobbly grin threatening to overtake his face.

“Already?” he managed, pulling himself out of her delicately. He was grateful that she couldn’t see the blush that tinged his cheeks at the sight of his seed spilling from her gaping entrance. ‘It belongs inside of her, filling her fuller,’ a small, secret, honest part of him thinks.

“The day has only just begun, dear Exarch, and I find that I’m rather **hungry**.”

Well, he certainly wasn’t going to argue with that, and Lyna had been pestering him to take a day off for quite some time.

“Very well then, Little Warrior. I’m going put my clothing back on, and then you are going to get dressed — a reasonably long skirt, I think, will suffice. I suggest you pack an extra pair of panties in your bag, because once we reach the privacy of the Tower, I intend to rip them off of you. If anyone asks what we’re doing, we’re going to tell them that we are organising my personal library and working on figuring out where the next Lightwarden is, and that we are not to be disturbed for the rest of the day.”

“You make it sound like it will be a challenge.”

He smirked as he climbed off of her and began dressing once more. Half a thought had a small plug of low-voltage levin-laced aether filling her fluttering entrance, and the Warrior of Darkness **hissed**.

“Did I mention that you’re also not allowed to come until you’re back on my cock?” the Exarch hummed, untying the scarf from her eyes. They were, as expected, oscillating between murderous and unfocused, her nostrils flaring. “I suggest you dress quickly.”

The Warrior, to her credit, moved about the suite as normal, only occasionally twitching or tensing with strings of colourful swears in a number of languages, and the Exarch only had to wait ten minutes before she grabbed his wrist and her bag, and dragged him out the door, only to release her hold when they came in view of the Manager.

The Crystal Exarch nodded at the elf, a pleasant smile on his face — nothing unusual. Most people were used to the Exarch and the Warrior of Darkness coming and going.

And then, they ran into Alisaie of all people.

To her credit, his companion plastered a warm, friendly expression across her face. The Exarch chose that moment to slightly increase the levin of the plug, and Khione blanched.

“Are you quite alright?” Alisaie frowned, examining the sorceress with a cocked eyebrow.

“Just peachy,” Khione managed, and though she was playing it off well, the Exarch could see the way she fisted her hand in her skirt.

Alisaie looked between the two adults, tilting her head a little. “Does this mean you won’t be at sparring practice today?”

Khione’s composure fractured a little, cheeks flushing a delicious rose. “I-I don’t know what you mean, Alisaie. The Exarch and I were just—”

“You would be correct, Alisaie. Our friend has kindly agreed to help me organise my personal library today since she intends to take the day off,” the Exarch finally broke in, moving to continue on toward the Tower. The Warrior followed with a little wave to Alisaie, who simply frowned before heading to the barracks.

They made it up to the Ocular with no further incident — Lyna was used to the Exarch locking himself in the Tower for days on end whenever he told her that he would be busy, and it was well-known that the Exarch and the Warrior of Darkness had recently developed a particularly close friendship based on their mutual love of magical theory.

The Crystal Exarch took his time in meandering over to his desk, settling himself in the grand chair before beckoning Khione over with a languid wave.

“Is your toy still in place, Little Warrior?” he crooned, smirking at her.

“Yes, it is, my Lord Exarch,” she grated, eyes like silver flame.

“Excellent. I want you to undress, and then get down on your hands and knees beneath my desk. I’m in need of a bit of relief while I work on some documents, and I dare say your lips will do the trick. If you’re good, I’ll bend you over the desk and fill you so full, you’ll look like you’re carrying my children.”

She glared daggers straight through to his soul, but obeyed nonetheless, removing her clothing once more before lowering herself to literally crawl beneath the desk and position herself between his legs. Holy Twelve, she looked obscene, her breasts hanging heavy and full as she ducked under his robes. He was thankful that he hadn’t bothered to put his smalls back on. He was also thankful that he had thought to curl his tail beneath his ass before inviting Khione to delve beneath the shroud of his robes.

A feral _hiss_ escaped him at the first brush of her lips across his swollen, leaking tip, the cold embrace of her hands around the bottom of his shaft and his heavy sacs. Suddenly, supply lines between The Crystarium and Fort Jobb were the last thing he wanted to think about.

He forced himself to focus, nonetheless, to play this role of the detached, dominating Exarch ordering the Warrior of Darkness around like she was little more than a hired harlot paid to bring him to the heights of pleasure.

Gods, she was skilled with her mouth, adding just the right amount of pressure and teeth as she took him as far back into her throat as she could, and then slowly pulled off, only to repeat.

He couldn’t help himself when he bucked his hips, thrusting against the back of her throat in response to a particularly cheeky, gentle nibble on the underside of his head. Her answering moan and the following scent of her arousal growing potent in the air told him as much as he needed to know, and he repeated the motion, egged on by her muffled mewling and whimpering.

“You didn’t warn me you were so good at this, Little Warrior,” he grated, looking down at her. Fat tears shone in her silver eyes, a sheen of sweat beading along her brow, but her expression was one of sheer determination. Oh, she wanted to taste his release. He was more than happy to feed her. “I’m going to come now, and you, my beautiful Little Warrior, are going to swallow _every. last. drop._ Do you understand? Blink once for yes.”

One blink, and he began to rut into her mouth a little more, groaning as she massaged his shaft and sacs with her hands.

When he came, he came hard and hot. To Khione’s credit, she obeyed his command to the letter, and didn’t pull off of him with a wet _pop_ until she had swallowed the last of his release. She met the shadowed spot where his eyes were, and licked her lips languidly.

“That was good,” she purred. “I’d very much like you to breed me.”

“Use your manners.”

She grinned, standing to prowl around to the other side of the desk, to lean over with those tantalizing breasts on display. “Now please. I’d very much like you to breed me, to fill me until I’m distended and swollen with your seed, and then I’d like you to plug me up and keep me here like your little broodmare.”

Oh, he liked her spirit.

The Exarch rose to his feet and began his journey around the desk, slowly unfastening the myriad buckles and clasps of his robes. A snap of his fingers had a band of aether wrapping around Khione’s eyes, blinding her.

“Did you think I would let you sneak a peek at my body?” he purred, trailing his crystalline hand over the scarred skin of her lower back.

“Maybe~” she hummed, wiggling her ass tauntingly.

_SMACK_!

His crystal hand connected with her ass cheek, a vibrant mark already blooming on the lily-pale skin. The yelp of surprise and pain that she made was genuine, and it only made him want to do it again.

So, he did.

“Clever girl, Little Warrior,” he crooned, rubbing his half-hard member along the slick between her thighs. “But being clever will only get you in more trouble. I expect naught but the best behaviour from _my_ good girl.”

Khione whined, trying to grind backwards against him. He stepped away with ease, tutting.

“Ah, ah, ah. If you want something, use your words. I know for a fact that you’re _quite_ good with your mouth.”

The Warrior snarled, but there was no bite behind the sound, and the Exarch knew he’d won this round.

“You’re enjoying this far too much, dear Exarch.”

He chuckled, a thing of dark and seductive beauty.

“I am, that much is true, but I dare say you seem to be enjoying it just as much.”

She grumbled. It was truly rather endearing, the way she fought with her words, while her body was so eager for him.

The Exarch took himself in hand, pumping himself to proud hardness. He bent over Khione, resting his hands on her hips, letting his length press at her backside.

“Do you see what you do to me, Little Warrior?” he growled low in her ear. She shivered along the full length of her spine, a strangled noise escaping her. “I cannot wait to watch you grow round with my seed.” One hand moved to her thin, flat stomach, splayed out with proprietary possessiveness.

“P-please,” Khione mewled.

“Good girl.” Half a thought from him had the aether plug disappearing, right before he sheathed himself to the hilt in one fluid movement, every feral instinct in him driving him to breed, to mark, to claim once more.

Gods, her body was so welcoming, so pliant beneath him. Her every sound was another piece of kindling on the fire burning within him. Beneath his hand, he could feel the thick, obscene bulge of his cock moving within her, stirring the seed he’d deposited in her earlier.

He lost himself in this most primal act, in his long-held youthful dreams become reality. Inner walls of purest velvet clenched and squeezed around the fat intrusion. One of his hands snaked up her front to grab a breast, pinching the nipple hard enough to bruise; the other, crystalline, trailed down to gently rub at her bud, infused with heat and aether. 

She came with a choked scream, but still he continued to pound into her overstimulated cunt, too far gone in his own frenzy to bother being soft.

“Look at you, Little Warrior. Look at how well you’re taking me, how prettily you come on my cock when I’m not even done. Tell me: to whom do you belong?” he purred, nipping at the shell of her ear.

“Y-you!” Khione moaned, gripping the edge of the desk so hard that her knuckles were blanched white. “I belong to you!”

The Exarch gave a series of particularly forceful thrusts, running his teeth along the soft skin of the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

“That would be correct, Little Warrior. You’re _mine_. Now, does _my_ good girl want me to claim her? Does she want me to sink my teeth into her beautiful flesh, so everyone will see and know that she belongs only to me?”

“Yes! Gods, _yes!_ ” she howled, her body tensing around him again in preparation for another violent orgasm.

“Then come for me again, Little Warrior,” he whispered.

This time, she screamed.

His thrusts became erratic, frantic, wild and unbound, and he released _hard_ inside her when at last he bit down on her shoulder, drawing blood that tasted like the sweetest nectar. He marked her _deep_ , body and soul.

By the time he finished spilling himself into her welcoming womb, her abdomen was swollen and lovely beneath his hand.

They stayed connected for many long moments, panting and sweating. It pained him to finally pull out, but he was more than satisfied by the way she moaned, low and lewd and pathetic, when he replaced the aether plug within her once more. He set the levin in it rather low as he gently lowered her onto a small sofa behind his desk with a lover’s tenderness, grabbing a blanket from nearby to drape around her shoulders, leaning to press a loving kiss to her brow.

“You were so good for me, Little Warrior,” he murmured as he sat down beside her, then pulled her into his arms. “You look so beautiful, a perfect little mate for The Crystarium’s leader.” He stroked her slightly-distended stomach reverently, pressing another kiss to the top of her head. “Rest now.”

Thus, did their strange relationship begin, each finding solace in the other’s arms, in the heady dream of what could never be.

/Fin


End file.
